


Before The Dawn

by arexasaurusrwar



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dragons, Gen, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Post-Season/Series 07, Stark family feels, pure self indulgence for the author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-29 01:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12620056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arexasaurusrwar/pseuds/arexasaurusrwar
Summary: Sansa refuses to be under someone else's rule again, so she does something about it.





	Before The Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> I needed this, but it's the most I've written in awhile so I'm posting it. Also: I still don't have a beta reader, so sorry for any mistakes!

Winter had set in well in the North. It was always cold, but now if the fires weren’t properly fed, people would freeze. Northerners couldn’t sit down and do nothing, the fear of not being able to move again too high. They continuously moved throughout Winterfell, never stopping long enough to think about getting cold. 

It helped that everyone was terribly aware of the upcoming war and too busy to rest.

As Lady of Winterfell, Sansa Stark was forced to sit and listen or write or read. She made sure to move when she could, walking around the grounds and pacing when she received a raven. Unfortunately, writing letters wasn’t something she could do without sitting still.

Fortunately, some letters made her want to rip her hair out.

“What am I supposed to say to him? ‘ _Your Grace, while I respect your judgement you’re a fucking foolish cunt who doesn’t understand politics!_ ’?” Sansa hissed, throwing another draft of her reply to Jon in the fire. After furiously striding into her solar and slamming the door, she had not stopped trying to craft the perfect response.

Arya, on the other hand, was perfectly gleeful. She just smirked and remarked, “Swearing, Sansa? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound so unladylike. What would the Septa say?”

“The Septa would agree that our King shouldn’t have gone South.” Sansa huffed as she sat back down at the table to start the letter again. “The Septa also never would’ve agreed to something like _bending the knee to a Targaryen_.”

Arya grinned and hopped out of her chair, “Alright, so let’s play a game.” She was having fun with these games. They were less deadly than anything she had done in a long while.

“I’ve had enough games, Arya.” Sansa sighed, leaning back in her chair. She was tired of playing, it was too much effort to figure out every situation. She hadn’t even been sure about Petyr until Bran told her what he did. She looked at her younger brother, who was continuously silent as he stared into the fire.

“Humor me,” Arya ordered, in a way that was so like her, with one hand flipping Petyr’s dagger around and the other firmly planted at the small of her back as she moved around the room. “The worst reason Jon has for bending the knee is that he’s stupid like Father and Robb. The Dragon Queen has him wrapped around her finger. He’s making foolish choices and not listening to your advice.”

“He’s _not_ ,” Sansa insisted. She had warned Jon about this, about playing with the North’s future. “I know Cersei better than anyone else in the North. I dare say that I’m only behind Jaime and Tyrion Lannister, and even they have no idea what their sister is thinking.”

Arya just had a simple, playful smile. “ _Or,_ ” She emphasized, “He’s tricking Daenerys. He knows that Cersei would never help us. The Mad Queen hates us and will see us die before actually caring about the realm. Jon knows that you said not to trust her, and that she _burned down the Sept of Baelor._ ” If it hadn’t been Cersei, if there hadn’t been innocent people harmed, Arya might’ve been impressed. She was more horrified than anything else. “So, he needs the Dragon Queen for her literal _dragons_.”

Sansa paused, thinking this over. Arya did have a point, but she hesitated before asking, “Bran?” She waited for her brother to meet her eyes to continue, “Can you see Jon’s choices? Any clues to what he’s thinking?” She was desperate, needing the truth more than anything.

Bran looked away again, “Jon Snow is not who anyone thinks he is.”

Arya frowned deeply, “What does that mean?” She hated this grown version of her little brother. The Bran she had known was happy, not silent and solitary. They had all changed too much.

“It means that he should not be the Northern King.” Bran looked to Sansa with this, silently telling her what she must do. He couldn’t bear to see Arya’s judgement.

Sansa’s mouth dropped open, “Bran I can’t! Jon was voted in by the Northern Lords and Ladies themselves!” Jon was already a great leader, and if he just had more time, he would grow into an amazing King.

“Jon Snow is not who anyone thinks he is.” Bran repeated as he went back to beholding the fire. “He has a much bigger role than King in the North.”

When Arya hopped on Sansa’s desk, she looked back at her sister and stated, “He knows who Jon’s mother is.” It was plain as day, when you saw Bran’s pain in his usually expressionless face.

Sansa stared into her sister’s eyes critically before getting over her shock and realizing that Arya was right. She peered over at her brother, leaning in. “Bran, you have to tell us!”

“It will change all that you know and believe to be true,” Bran warned, bracing them for the information. He figured that if Samwell Tarly and his not-wife knew, his sisters had the right to know as well.

Arya snorted at the thought, “No it won’t. Jon is my brother.” Nothing would ever change that in Arya’s mind. They were siblings, bonded through more than just blood.

Sansa looked down at her hands, neatly folding them in her lap. “If it’s bad, if Jon’s in trouble, I know what I have to do.” She would do everything in her power to keep Jon safe.

“It’s said that the victors of war get to tell their version of the story, not the truth.” Bran started, launching into Lyanna and Rhaegar’s love story, all the way up to Ned Stark’s promise. “Father adopted the name _Jon Snow_ to protect the newborn Prince from Robert Baratheon’s blood bath.”

Sansa stood up immediately following the story’s end. “I have to speak to Lyanna Mormont.” She quickly left the room, not wasting a minute. She had already decided to do what was best for those she loved, and she had to protect Jon.

“She’s worried that he’ll get stabbed by his own men again,” Arya noted curiously, watching her elder sister leave. “When did she become close with Jon? They weren’t like this before.” She was certain.

Bran smiled lightly, “When she came to Castle Black after all her trauma and they thought they were the only ones left alive. It was a very intense moment.”

There was a minute of silence before Arya replied with, “You got weird.”

Bran raised an eyebrow, “You wore Walter Frey’s face and killed almost his entire house.”

“Yeah, well, that was amazing, not weird.” Arya hopped off the desk, leaving Bran to his own thoughts.

 

* * *

 

 

“To the Queen in the North! To Queen Sansa of House Stark, first of her name and the Red Wolf!” The Northerner’s were screaming, as were those from the Vale and the few who had come from the Riverlands.

Sansa smiled on the outside, but inside her stomach twisted. She didn’t want to take the crown from Jon. Even disregarding his birthright, she was sure that Robb would’ve wanted him as King. “Thank you, my lords and ladies!” She met Lyanna Mormont’s eyes as she said, “I am the eldest living Stark, my true family is in this castle with me, and we will not fail you through the Long Night.” She swept her view across them all, “I will rule you well, and I swear to you that we will _not_ fall during this war!”

Lyanna raised her sword and yelled, “No Queen but the Queen in the North, whose name is Stark!” The others copied her chant elatedly, while Sansa did her best not to flush at the attention. She arched her back and stood taller, trying to put on her bravest face. 

Her elder brother had started this, then her cousin had continued it, but it would be her who would lead them out of the war. The Starks would not fall again.

 

* * *

 

 

Brienne and Podrick arrived back before Jon, and her sworn sword was delighted about her new title. She was also happy to hear about Petyr Baelish’s death, but had the grace not to show it—not that it mattered, with Pod and Arya giggling about it behind them.

Jaime Lannister was right behind them, and while Sansa was not surprised at Cersei’s lies, she was grateful to have Jaime’s help. If Jon stayed with the Dragon Queen, she needed someone who knew about war. Brienne was an amazing fighter, but she did not know how to win at war.

Her uncle Edmund came next, with the Frey’s and Lannister’s weakened so much, he was able to rally those under House Tully. Roslin had told her sisters who now held House Frey to stand down and let her husband take back the rule. They, still scared of the Northerners who remembered the Red Wedding, quickly agreed. Edmund had brought some six thousand men with him, answering his niece’s call. He had not survived imprisonment just to be killed by those already dead.

They all greeted the Targaryen party when it was clear they would be arriving. The Tully troops surrounded Winterfell, fires, tents, and flags everywhere. The Northern and Vale armies were inside the grounds, but had all quickly marched out when they heard that there would be Dothraki coming.

Sansa, standing tall in a black dress with grey furs and her brother’s crown, stood in front of them all with only Ghost at her side. Her sister, brother, Brienne, Jaime were all behind her. The Lords and Ladies sat atop horses in front of their men.

At the sound of the Dragons, Sansa steeled herself and refused to flinch. She kept her eyes on the horizon for Jon. “I can only hear two,” Sansa remarked, frowning. “Where is the third dragon, Bran?”

Bran vanished for a moment before saying, “During the hunt, Jon almost died, and a dragon was lost in the process.” He paused. “The Night King brought it back.” He stopped short, “He’s taken down the Wall. Castle Black is in ruins.”

Sansa’s calm demeanor went up in flames as her fury overpowered her emotions. Ghost growled lightly, standing up and going in front of her protectively. The second she saw her cousin’s black, curly locks, she mounted her horse and rode out to greet her newfound cousin.

Jon met her in the middle of the opening, and had an unnerving flashback to his battle with Ramsey. “Are you in open rebellion of my rule?”  He didn’t sound angry, more amused.

Sansa took a deep breathe, ignoring his question. “Your little hunting trip has caused major problems, and the Northerners no longer wanted someone who wasn’t even in the North as their leader.” She paused, “Bran and Samwell Tarly say that you are a Targ.” She nodded towards the dragons in the sky, “I could not risk them hosting a mutiny so I did it myself. This way, I can keep us alive.”

Jon looked to the sky, seeing Drogon nearing the ground to land. “What makes Bran think I’m a Targaryen?”  

“Bran is an all-seeing bird and Arya became a faceless murder,” Sansa hissed before schooling her features when Tyrion started approaching.

“Sansa, my lady wife. I am glad you are looking so well.” Tyrion grinned, genuinely happy that she was still alive. “Is that a new accessory?” He asked innocently at the sight of her crown.

Sansa grinned mercilessly, “Tyrion, we both know that we are not married and you know what my _accessory_ means.” She dismounted her horse and leant down to hug the man. “I’m glad you are alive, I feel so terrible for leaving you in King’s Landing.”

Tyrion hugged her back, “I forgive you. We both know who was the real culprit of Joffrey’s murder, and we both know it was needed.” He made it out alive, and that was all that mattered. She had been a girl who would’ve died the same as he if she had stayed. He looked past her at her party, “Is Jaime already here? I don’t see any Lannister flags.”

Sansa grimaced, looking at Jon, “Cersei lied.” She turned and called her people over.

“We should really wait for Daenerys,” Tyrion pointed out, not wanting to have to go through this all again. He looked up to see his Queen circling around Winterfell.

Sansa raised an eyebrow, “I think she’s a bit busy with her dragons at the moment, I’m sure she’ll be able to catch up when she decides to land.” The redhead stepped away from the two men as the others joined them. “You all know each other.” She didn’t want to make introductions.

Jaime sighed, “Cersei tricked you.” He started lightly, breaking the news to his little brother the best he could. “Her Grace, Queen Sansa, has given me the job of commanding her armies. She has also united more of the land than anyone else currently can with so many of the kingdoms thrown into chaos.”

“Chaos that you helped create, in the Reach, Pike and Dorne,” Tyrion pointed out, raising an eyebrow. He looked at Sansa, “You never fail to impress me, your grace.” He couldn’t help the pride in his voice as he spoke her title. This Stark, who had lived through so much, she deserved this.

Sansa smiled brightly, “The chaos will be fixed once the war is won, Lord Tyrion, I will personally make sure of it. Theon is still a part of this family, I have always been friends with those in the Reach and I’m sure that Princess Arianne Martell will get a handle on her Kingdom in no time.” Sansa stopped short, “I was greatly saddened to hear about Myrcella and Tommen.”

As Tyrion’s eyes went cloudy as Daenerys landed her dragon. The Silver Queen yelled down at Sansa from Drogon’s back, “Are you going bend the knee like your brother or will you burn?”

Sansa darkened quickly, “If you want to have a discussion, it will be face to face. I will not scream at you and face your useless intimidation tactics.” She was a direwolf. A dragon would not scare her.

Daenerys dismounted Drogon and waited for a second before realizing that Sansa would not come to meet her. Everyone was already standing over there, so the elder queen walked over quickly. “I will offer you the same deal I gave those in the Reach, _join me_ or burn.”

“Your threats do not scare me, my lady,” Sansa said with a smile. “My terms are as follows: We join our armies to defeat the others. Once we defeat the Others, what’s left of us will march south and defeat Cersei. Once all wars are won, you may have the Crownlands, the Westerlands, the Reach and Dorne. Pike will be its own sovereign nation, so long as the pillaging and raping stops. The Riverlands, the Vale, the Gift and the North will be under the control of myself and my family, and no one else.”

Daenerys looked down at Tyrion, “I thought you said she was smart.” She met Sansa’s eyes, “I have Dragons. What’s to stop me from burning down your kingdom?”

“Well, for one thing, you, your stupid ideas and your dragons made the fight ten times as difficult because now the Night King has a _dragon_ who _melted_ the Wall, something that has stood for centuries.” Sansa growled, and continued to update them on the situation. “Another is that your eldest brother married my aunt and had a _son_ , which my family raised and cared for while you didn’t have any idea he existed. My family can prop him up as the rightful Targaryen ruler but I don’t want it to come to another Targaryen civil war.” Her grin turned violent, “You are not the only one who has old blood, my lady. The Targaryens’ might be fireproof but Starks have our own skills.”

“You’re trying to tell me that there is a Wight Dragon, Jon is my nephew and you’re magical?” The Dragon Queen asked, raising an eyebrow. “Tyrion, I’m severely doubting your advice on this girl.”

Tyrion frowned lightly, “She has grown much, since I last saw her. She’s always had a spine, but she’s pointedly showing it now.” He glanced at his once-wife, “What is your proof that Jon is a Targaryen? Why should I believe you?”

Bran looked at Tyrion, “You told Daenarys that not a single person who shares her blood was alive to support her, that the Starks were gone.” Bran gave out a small smiled, “You were very wrong.”

Daenerys looked at her Hand, “How does this child quote you?”

“The boy is a Greenseer, someone who can perceive future and the past.” Tyrion explained, in shock. He had only heard stories, but there was no other way for Bran to know about that conversation. “You went North of the Wall, didn’t you?”

Instead of answering back, Bran looked to Daenerys. “Just before your dragons were born, you swore to your army that those who would harm them would die screaming.” Bran took a breath before adding, “I cannot wait to see you make the White Walkers die screaming.”

Arya burst into uncomfortable, inappropriate laughter until Sansa squeezed her shoulder. The redhead smiled, “Now, if we could get on with it.” Sansa stood straight once again, her earlier joy disappearing completely, “I will not bend to your rule. My family knelt to Targaryen’s once, but I will not.”

“Twice, my Lady.” Daenerys pointed out, putting her hand on Jon’s shoulder as if to take a claim on the man. 

Sansa did not falter, her emotionless expression immovable, “Please call one of your dragons over.”

Daenerys, however, was very startled, “Excuse me?” She didn't think everyone in Westeros would _want_ to be burned alive. 

Sansa tilted her head to the side, “Was I not clear, Lady Targaryen?” She used the name pointedly, “Please have one of your dragons come closer.”

The request had been so unexpected that the Dragon Queen called Rhaegal over. From behind her sister Arya snorted, “Well isn’t this ironic.” 

“Sansa, what are you doing?” Jon asked, stepping away from the green beast. They might've let him come close, but they were still monsters.

Sansa smiled brightly at him and made her second request, “Jon, please get on the dragon.”

“That is a death wish!” Daenerys yelled immediately, “Jon, don’t you dare.” She couldn't stop Rheagal if the dragon thought he was being attacked. 

Sansa huffed at this, “She knows nothing.” She looked Jon in the eyes, “At least go pet the thing.” She was begging him to trust that she knew what she was doing. 

Jon looked at the beast nervously, but when Arya nor Bran spoke up from behind Sansa, he listened. Once Jon was on Rhaegal’s back, he had stopped shaking out of fear. “How is that possible?” Daenerys asked, putting a hand to her stomach.

Bran rolled up next to Sansa, “It’s not what you think.” He looked at her stomach and shook his head, “Jon is a Targaryen.”

“I still don't get this!” Jon screamed, almost falling off Rhaegal. He quickly got off before he hurt himself, already having too much contact with the Dragon as it was. Rhaegal put his nose to Jon's hand as the man left his side. 

Sansa grinned mercilessly, “If you wish to test it, you can command the dragon to burn him. He will stay unharmed. I’m not even sure if it would harm the True Targaryen.”

“ _What_ is the meaning of this?” Daenerys shrieked at Jon.

Jon was just as confused as she was, “That’s my question.” He wasn't sure where this was going, or what this meant. His father was Eddard Stark, and there weren't any Targaryen females old enough to birth a child. 

“Lyanna Stark was not kidnapped, nor was she raped,” Bran looked to Daenerys, “You brother was a good man. He might’ve wronged Elia Martell, but he fell in love with a Stark girl and is only degraded because Robert Baratheon declared it as such.”

Jon stood shell-shocked, “So I’m not—”

“You’re our cousin,” Sansa put in with a pitiful smile, trying to be soft about crushing his entire life.

“You’re _her_ cousin.” Arya interrupted, “I don’t care who your parents were, you are my brother.”

Tyrion honestly wasn’t sure if he was so drunk that he was hallucinating. “This is not real. Ned Stark did not pull off the biggest lie in history. That’s impossible.”

“People continuously underestimate the Starks,” Sansa sighed, “I wonder when they will learn.” She was disappointed in him, not seeing the truth in her words. Everyone had misjudged her as a pretty doll, meanwhile she watched and learned. Her siblings had survived more than she could even imagine. 

“You’re not a Stark! You’re a Lannister!” Daenerys screamed, “Your Lord Husband is sworn to me and so are you!” The woman’s fury was showing, and she was losing composure.

Sansa grinned viciously, “House Stark has been around since the time of the First Men. We will be here when your House falls and goes extinct. I am the daughter of this Great House and I _am not married._ ” She looked at Tyrion, “I’m father fond of him, though, so I do not wish to kill him like I did my second husband.”

“I was sold, raped—”

Sansa cut the Silver Queen off quickly, angry at this woman using her past scars to act like a hero, “This world is unkind to women, Lady Targaryen, but I am not here to trade similar traumas.” She folded her hands together, “You will either work with myself and those sworn to me, _or you will continue on your way and die._ ”

“Is that a threat?” Daenerys hissed, eyes narrowed. She was about to start war with this foolish girl, damn the consequences.

“Oh, my lady, it is a promise.” Sansa did not smile, wanting to look at Jon and apologize, but she couldn’t give that away. She wouldn’t let Daenerys use him as a prisoner.

Daenerys looked at Jon, still unsure about their relationship but more worried about the fights they would have to win. Sansa had more armies then she did. “Do something! These are your people.”

“I warned you that the North would not take too kindly to bending the knee.” Jon pointed out, “And they’re no longer my people.” He was proud of Sansa, he knew he had left the North in capable hands. Sansa was doing a wonderful job as Queen. 

Sansa grinned, “My cousin, Davos Seaworth, those with them and Tyrion Lannister are welcome to come back into Winterfell.” When she had seen Sandor, she had to force herself not to laugh that he was still alive. Nothing could kill the Hound. “Unfortunately, Lady Targaryen, I do not have room in my home for you or your soldiers.” She turned on a heal and walked away without waiting for her response. She did not want someone threatening to kill her in her home. Never again.

Daenerys started screaming at Jon, who quickly followed Sansa. Tyrion and Davos did the same. Sandor was quickly walking towards Arya, knowing the little wolf anywhere, but he was quickly overtaken by Gendry, who threw his arms around her and sighed.

Arya huffed, “Get off me, you stupid bull.” Jon had stopped in his tracks, and so had Sansa. The two shared a look and Jon could only shrug.

Sansa took another look at the pair as they parted, and her mouth dropped when Sandor came around Gendry’s side and ruffled Arya’s hair, “You’re a survivor.”

Arya snorted, “Didn’t you die already?” She was grinning, though. Arya bit her lip and turned away from them, “To be continued.” She screamed and started running, startling everyone around her.

Jon just grinned and held his arms out for her as she slammed into him. “Oomph, Arya.” He silently laughed when she folded herself around his middle and rested his chin on her head. “I love you so much, I thought you were dead.”

“I stuck ‘em with the pointy end.” Arya murmured, sniffing, and trying to hide the fact that she was crying. Jon’s loud laughter overwhelmed her.

Sansa almost started crying. She hadn’t seen Arya so normal since before they went to King’s Landing, and Jon was finally being carefree, the first time since Rickon died. She steadied herself and politely cut in, “We should continue this behind the gates.”

Arya let out a frustrated growl, so Jon just picked her up. “You’re not _that_ grown, little one.” Sansa couldn’t help but laugh at this. “Takes you back, doesn’t it?” He asked her as they walked into Winterfell.

Sansa looked up at the castle they had grown up in, “Yeah. Takes me back.” Her eyes wandered the fields were the boys would practice together, the walls Bran always climbed, Arya’s favorite hiding spots. “We’re all back home."


End file.
